


A Chance Meeting

by alistairweekend



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: A short account of how my D&D character, Nimue, met one of her party members that ended up becoming her closest friend.





	A Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is in a world where human society is made up of nomadic clans wandering vast plains/tundra. As such, any race other than humanity is extremely rare, and half-elves are very much looked down upon. There are no actual towns or cities; Nurin Ord is one of the few semi-permanent settlements because it is a trading post, but merchants still regularly come and go.

Nimue breathed a quiet sigh of relief when a crumbling archway came into view across the spanless plains. Despite having traveled these lands for most of her life, the possibility of becoming lost amongst the nondescript flatness of the landscape was a valid concern. But the ruins marked the entrance to her destination, Nurin Ord, and her confidence was reaffirmed.

Passing through the weathered stone columns into the small market settlement, Nimue tugged her hood farther down, acutely aware of the tips of her ears brushing against the fabric. It wasn’t often that she had so many eyes on her, and as such every gaze pointed her way had a palpable weight. _As soon as I meet my contact, I can leave,_ she reminded herself, trying to ignore the unease tightening her chest.

She made her way to the main hub, eyes scanning the scene for any sign of the person she was meant to meet. The marketplace consisted of plain hide tents nestled amongst the stone skeletons of long-gone buildings. Merchants set up displays outside their respective tents. The place as a whole wasn’t very busy; only a couple dozen people wandered and perused.

After several minutes of discrete searching with no success, Nimue began to feel antsy. She wondered if there had been a miscommunication with her contact. Maybe he wasn’t in the marketplace proper?

“Thief!”

Nimue paused just as she started to walk away, turning instinctively at the exclamation. At one of the stalls closest to the archway, a girl with an impressive mane of ginger hair stood, an apple held up to her lips as if she had been about to take a big bite. The proprietor of that stall was the owner of the shout, and he was pointing accusingly at the girl, who looked rather indignant. “What?”

“How stupid are you, taking something right in front of me? Cough up some money or I’ll call the guard. I won’t ask twice.”

“But–”

Nimue was a thief. This profession was not by choice, but out of necessity. Nonetheless, helping others – especially strangers – without gain for herself was generally something she couldn’t afford, as much as the thought appealed to her. So it came as a surprise to herself when she found her feet moving her towards the scene.

“Here.” Nimue appeared at the girl’s side without a sound. Initially not noticing the rogue’s presence, the redhead jumped slightly at the sound of Nimue’s voice, then stared as she dropped a few coppers into the merchant’s outstretched hand.

The man grunted in acceptance.

Nimue turned to leave, her good deed having been done, but she was quickly stopped: “Waitwaitwait!”

The girl hurried after her, falling into step at Nimue’s side. “What was _that_ all about? I mean, those apples were just sitting there. That guy was dumb for putting ‘em out there like that if he didn’t expect people to take some.”

Between the girl following her and the bewildering remark she just made, Nimue didn’t quite know what to do. Who on earth was this person?

Nimue’s new companion seemed unperturbed by her lack of response. “Is everyone here like that? You seem to know what you’re doing.” She rambled on for a bit, the topic gradually changing to something completely unrelated, as if it were perfectly natural to chat with a hooded shadowy figure who had hardly spoken a single word to her.

They walked slowly as Nimue attempted to recover from her confusion, and as they reached the end of the market area, there was a break in the babbling. Nimue took her chance: “Um, what’s your name?”

“Oh. It’s Baxter,” the girl replied without hesitation.

“I’m Nimue.”

“That’s hard to say.”

“I’m... sorry...?” Nimue furrowed her brows. Was that something to apologize for?

“Hmm. You’re just ‘Nim’, I think. Yeah.” Baxter nodded in self-satisfaction, amber eyes twinkling. Nimue’s mouth involuntarily cracked in a smile of bemusement, but before she could say anything Baxter continued: “All right, Nim, where to?”

Everything from the past hour seemed unbelievably ridiculous; this girl who knew nothing of social rules and willingly sought out a thief’s company. Yet here they were, and Nimue would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by the change of pace. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken to her outside of business or in passing.

Nim had a feeling she would be with Baxter for a while.


End file.
